Page 52 of Scarred Sacrifice
“How you planning on doing this?” he asks. I lift my hand, his dangling from the other end of the cuff.
I sigh. “Just climb on. We will make it work. But do not try and grab the handle while I ride,” I warn him.
“What, and probably kill us both?” he scoffs. “That ain’t my style, Sparky,” he quips.
“Will you stop calling me that!” I snap. His grin deepens as he swings his leg over the bike behind me, nestling in close, his hand around my waist while his other stays attached to mine. I ignore how it feels to have his body pressed against mine and start the engine.
The rumbling sound of the engine echoes around the metal shed. I pull on the revs a couple of times, listening to the engine roar beneath me.
“Don’t fall off!” I yell before pulling away. As soon as I make it onto the open road, I push it, speeding, feeling the wind and world pass us by as we ride through the winding roads. Nyx’s hold on me tightens, his hard body pressed to my back. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as happiness I haven’t felt in a while washes over me.
About fifteen minutes into the ride, the heavens open and torrential rain pelts us as we ride. I laugh, loving the feel of the cold rain hitting my skin on the warm night. I turn us around, cutting the ride short as we head back into the sanctuary. Iride into the shed and kill the engine, removing my helmet and letting out a small laugh. My chest rises and falls rapidly from the thrill and excitement of being back on my bike. I realise that Nyx still has his hand on my stomach, and as I twist slightly to the side and turn to look up at him, his eyes are burning into mine through his helmet.
The silence stretches between us. I swallow, my mouth becoming dry. Something feels different. Something has shifted, and I can’t fathom what it is. He moves and gets off the bike, forcing me to break eye contact. I clear my throat and look down, avoiding his gaze, mentally chastising myself for getting carried away with the thrill of the ride. It has to be the adrenaline making me feel that way. I feel him remove his helmet as my cuffed hand is lifted with his. I chance a look at him, noting that his dark hair is scruffy from the helmet, his usual stubble is darker and thicker from not shaving, and when my eyes land on his, I find the same burning heat as in mine.
I lick my lower lip. He takes my helmet from my hold and drops it to the floor, before he takes my cuffed hand in his. I get off my bike and just stand there, staring up at him as he holds my hand in his. I want to say something. I want to brush it off, tell him to back off, but I don’t. Instead, I gaze up at him as the rain hammers down on the metal shed.
“We should get inside,” he mutters.
I nod. “We should,” I agree, but neither of us move.
The tension is explosive, but my stubbornness won’t break. I want him, right fucking now. but there too much holding me back. Too much holding him back.
“Fuck it,” he growls, taking a swift step to me. His hands cup my face as he crashes his mouth to mine. His soft full lips caress and command mine, and I moan as his tongue dances along mine.
With my free hand, I glide it under his wet T-shirt, feeling his hot, wet and hard body. He groans as I drag my nails over down to his waistband of his jeans and cup him over his jeans, feeling him hard as I give him a gentle squeeze.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs over my lips between kisses.
“Definitely not,” I pant, trying to unbuckle his jeans with one hand. He moves his hands to the hem of my hoodie and grabs the hem, lifting it up. We pause the kiss, and he looks at me, waiting for me to stop him. Instead, I help him lift it over my head, leaving me in a soaking wet white tank top. His eyes roam over my breasts, which are clearly visible. His hands reach out and cups my breasts, his thumbs teasingly stroking my nipples.
“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to touch you? I’ve fucking dreamt about it,” he rasps.
I moan, pressing myself into his touch.
Grabbing the hem of my tank top, forcing him to let go, I lift it over my head, then I glide my thumbs along the waistband of my leggings and thong before shoving them down to my ankles.
“What about tasting me? Have you dreamt about that, too?” I ask, standing there completely bare before him. His eyes are hungry, and his chest is heaving. He looks like a wild animal about to devour his pray and fuck, I want him devouring every inch of me. He drops to his knees before me, looking up at me, his breath dancing over my desperate pussy. I run my free hand through his messy hair as his hands cup my behind. “Answer me,” I demand, tugging sharply on his hair.
He grins. “Something tells me you’ve dreamt of my mouth, of my tongue being buried inside your tight little cunt. My lips sucking your clit as you ride my face, coming so fucking hard your juices run down my chin. Admit it. I can smell how wet you are right now. I am salivating to taste you, but I want you to admit it first,” he demands.
My chest is heaving at his words and my pussy is desperate. I feel like I would come apart from the lightest of touch. He’s pushing me to cave first, dangling that temptation, the reward, the pleasure I’ve been craving.
I bite my lower lip. “I’ve dreamt about it. About you,” I admit.
His grin widens, his dimple deepening. “Good girl,” he growls, before he runs his tongue along my seam, teasing my clit. I pant, tightening my grip on his hair as he does exactly what he said, fucking me with his tongue, swirling his tongue over my clit, sending shocks of pleasure through me.
“Fuck, yes,” I pant. He focuses on my clit, sucking it and flicking it with his tongue. “Don’t stop. I’m going to cum,” I breathe, looking down on him. His hungry blue eyes stare up at me, watching me come apart by his tongue. My core tightens and I feel my orgasm explode. I throw my head back, my hips bucking as he continues to eat my pussy like it’s his last meal on death row, savouring everything. “Nyx,” I cry out when he doesn’t ease up, prolonging my orgasm as long as possible. As my orgasm finally eases, he slows to a stop.
I look down on him, my wet dark hair framing around my face.
“Wow,” I breathe as I swipe my thumb over his chin, wiping up my juices before I slip my thumb into his mouth. He moans, sucking my thumb clean before he stands before me.
“Kick your sneakers off,” he orders. I kick them off and he bends down, yanking my leggings off completely and throws them away before standing. He unbuttons each button slowly, freeing his impressive thick, hard cock. I lick my lips as I look at him, taking him all in. He fists his length up and down, the tip glistening. “Get on your knees and open your mouth,” he orders.
I arch my brow at him. “You’ve got the wrong girl if you think you can dominate me.”
“On. Your. Knees,” he growls.
